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As I rub my clit, I become somebody else, dragging my fingernails down his back, over his muscled body, feeling his firmness.
“I’m getting you soaked for me.”
Suddenly, I’m on my back, my legs open, as he leans over and slips his finger inside of me. I whimper as I move my hand quicker, the indulgence so vivid I can see Bryson’s captivating eyes, his finger slipping deeper, his palm pushing against my clit.
“Are we forever?”I imagine moaning.
“Always.”
Then he’s on top of me, pumping his hips as his cock glides up between my legs.
I can do it, take all of him. There’s no doubt, no second-guessing, no wondering if I’m good enough.
I forget how he hinted about another woman in the car. I forget about the funeral. Terribly, guiltily, I even forget about Adam.
All I know is Bryson’s on top of me, naked, gliding his cock in and out.
I rub my clit until my body seizes up, and the orgasm bursts within. Rolling aside, I push my face into the pillow and scream. Not from the release—that was a slight whimper—but out of frustration. It doesn’t compare to the real thing, not even close. The orgasm was like a tiny ripple where the feeling of his hand on my thigh was a tidal wave.
I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling, as the light shining through the curtains creates shimmering shapes. I’m flitting in and out of a state of near sleep, the place where dreams bleed into reality.
In the ceiling’s light, I see Bryson wrapping three children in a big towel, a warm smile on his face, as I hold our fourth. I see him putting a Band-Aid on our child’s knee.
I remember going to the doctor’s office, and there was this giant man, flooded with security.“Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay.”
He’d puke if he knew I wanted him.
Except… he touched me.
I have to remember that or forget it since it could tear my life apart.
I jolt into full wakefulness when my cell vibrates on the bedside table.
It’s Adam.
“Hey,” I say. “What’s up?”
“Were you sleeping?”
“Not really.”
“Sorry for calling so late.”
“Is something wrong?”
“No,” he sighs. “I mean… yes.”
“Sorry.” I cringe, thinking of Eva as more guilt tears me up. “That was a stupid question.”
“It’s fine,” he says. “I wanted to check in on you.”
“On me?”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a ride earlier.”
“What?” I sit up. “Don’t even think about that. You had to be with Eva’s parents.”
“But you’re good?” he presses. “Everything’s okay? You know I’m here if you need anything.”
